The Quiet Ones
by Duzzie
Summary: / Akaku Saku Koe / He closes his eyes, imagining soft red leaves enveloping him, carefully fluttering towards the ground, the crisp scent of autumn wafting through his nose, cold air in his lungs...In another world, he could have loved her.


**Word Count: 809**

**The Quiet Ones**

…

_manga: Akaku Saku Koe_

_characters: Sakamoto, Kokubu_

_edit: 82910_

…

The park is quiet. People flit in and out of it, out and around it, busy to and fro on this Monday morning. If they see him lying in the grass, they don't pay attention, or don't care. Or both.

He closes his eyes, imagining soft red leaves enveloping him, carefully fluttering towards the ground. The crisp scent of autumn wafts through his nose, a hint of maple. Cold air stings his lungs.

Lying in a pile of beautiful, dying leaves, slowly sinking, drowning. Giving in.

He opens his eyes.

There are no leaves. Just browning grass and a clear sky. He rests a mitten-wrapped hand to his forehead, wondering what the hell he's doing.

He closes his eyes. Breathes in the cold air and holds in the converted warmth, wonders why he can't seem to do that with anything else. Opens his eyes. Finds that he's not alone anymore.

Above him, a girl with pretty, short hair looks down on him with honest brown eyes and a plain, honest face. She's frowning, her eyebrows pulled down in thought. He wonders what she's thinking.

"Sakamoto-kun. What are you doing here?" she asks. She reaches out a hand to help him sit up. He doesn't need it, but he takes it anyway.

The corner of his mouth turns up in a wry grin. He wants to sleep. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he asks.

"Lying on the ground, waiting to catch a cold," she replies without missing a beat.

He looks over at her as she lowers herself to sit next to him, puffs of warmed air leaving her chapped lips. Her cheeks and nose are abnormally flushed and he can tell she's cold, but she says nothing, just stares out in the distance. He could give her his scarf, but he doesn't.

He looks away. "I'm playing hooky. Didn't really feel like going to school today." And she looks at him, fully, doesn't just glance or brush him off and her honest face is focused on his, and he likes that about her.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and he shrugs his shoulders, but he wants to say yes and no and I'm sorry and what if and…

but he doesn't. He closes his eyes and lies back down. He half expects her to get up and walk off. He does not expect her to lie down, too. "Why aren't you with Karashima, Kokubu?" he asks, the question rolling off his tongue almost against his will. He knows why she isn't with Karashima. What he really wants to know is why she's here, with him.

"He has work today," she replies easily. He wants to hold her hand. He wants to forget.

Forget responsibility and work and these people that he has centered his world around without even meaning to.

In another world, he could have loved her.

Her existence is so fragile, so important, and he's afraid every time she goes running off after his stupid charge that it will be the last time he sees her. They see her.

He wants to cry, sort of. But mostly, he wants to sleep (and see her smile, and see them happy, and watch them live long lives and)

"I've been thinking. About what you said the other day." He doesn't know what she's talking about, which she interprets from his silence. "The river. You said if we fell into a river, you'd save Karashima." He holds his breath a little, not sure what to expect, not sure if he should say anything.

Ah. And there. She reaches for him, clasps his hand in her own and he's sure his surprise is evident in his eyes, but refrains from looking over at her honest face and pretty, brown hair and eyes, and those chapped lips from which her quiet, unaffecting voice comes out.

"It's okay. You don't have to feel bad. I'm happy," and if he expected to hear anything, it probably wasn't that. "I'm glad Karashima has you. I'm glad you would save him first, because…If you two fell into a river, Sakamoto, I would have to save him, too."

A strangled laugh escapes his throat, but it feels like a heavy weight has been lifted from his chest, as if he has suddenly stopped sinking in that eternal pile of red leaves and dying earth. The air is crisp, but suddenly, it is refreshing.

And oh, it's too late. He is already too far-gone. He already loves these people too much to forget them and move on. And, god, he doesn't ever want to have to choose between the two.

He leans over, kisses her forehead softly, quickly, squeezes her hand.

'Let's go,' he doesn't say, but she understands anyway, and he likes that about her, too.

…

"_Ah, please…Don't let them fall in the river together."_


End file.
